11. Christmas at Ferndale Hall
CHAPTER 11
Christmas at Ferndale Hall
T he investigation was taking far too long, as far as Shaun was concerned. He thoroughly enjoyed the assembly and dancing with Louise, and was relieved his men had reported no new fires that particular night, but the next evening another barn had gone up in flames, this time with injured horses and a stablehand who Doctor Rasley had needed to treat. It had been the panicked horses who’d woken the stablehand, otherwise there would have been another death in town.
Shaun delivered his latest report to Lord Ferndale and Mr Baxter, the magistrate, and felt while the Baron was intent on pursuing the issue, the magistrate appeared uninterested in developments. But then, he knew more of the enmity between the two branches of the Baxter family, and understood the man was probably disinterested in anything Shaun had to say due to Shaun’s obvious interest in Louise.
“A hurricane lamp, you say?” Lord Ferndale asked.
“Yes, we found the broken glass on the ashes. The same kind of debris we found at the Flyte cottage. I think we should ask around if anyone has been buying extra lamps lately.”
“My stablehand has needed to purchase one recently,” Lord Ferndale said. “On account of one of ours was missing. I hadn’t put the two together …”
Joshua Baxter said, “I doubt the arsonist is showing his face and purchasing them for himself. Or herself for that matter.”
“Herself?” Shaun and Lord Ferndale said together.
“It could very well be a woman!” Mr Baxter said. “We should not rule anything out. Why, Miss Bernadette gets about at night with a hurricane lamp herself!”
Shaun was all for keeping an open mind, but this was too much. “Miss Bernadette is helping ailing women and those in childbed. Do you expect her to go crashing about in the dark? Injuring herself?”
“You’ve lost your objectivity,” Mr Baxter accused.
“But she’s tiny!” Shaun said, incredulous that the matter could even be in question. It was a nonsensical suggestion.
Joshua pressed home his point, “And can you vouch for her on the nights of the fires?”
“I can for at least one, the night I found a tall, thin man loitering outside the bookshop with a tinder box. I was not chasing a small woman, that’s for sure.”
Joshua rolled his eyes and said, “Keep an open mind, that’s what they say.”
Lord Ferndale cleared his throat and said, “Now, my good man, I’m confident we’ll have a breakthrough soon. In the mean time, Mr Jackson, what are you doing for Christmas?”
“Probably patrolling the town,” he answered automatically.
“I’d very much like you to come to Ferndale Hall and spend it with us.”
That brought him up short. “Goodness, I couldn't possibly impose.”
“It would be no imposition at all! As you’ve no family here, I suggest you join mine, which will include the Baxter sisters as I consider them my granddaughters these days.”
Louise would be there?
Joshua dramatically took out his gold fob watch and said, “Is that the time? I have another meeting to attend.”
They nodded and wished him well. Ferndale sounded genuine, Shaun said it through gritted teeth.
Interesting that Lord Ferndale thought of the Baxter sisters as family, but not their cousin. Though Shaun admitted privately that he wouldn’t be too hasty to claim Joshua as family himself, even if the connection were far more tangible.
When it was just the two of them, Shaun said, “In that case, my lord, I’d be honoured to attend.”
“Most excellent!” Lord Ferndale said with a twinkle in his eye. It did appear as if the old man was matchmaking, and Shaun had no objections whatsoever to spending more time in close proximity with Louise.
“Now,” Lord Ferndale probed. “Tell me more about your prospects.”
Dear heavens, the man was direct!
Shaun answered his serious questions clearly and without hesitation. “I have been more fortunate than most, and have about twenty thousand pounds to my name, and plan to eventually purchase an estate of my own or a large house in town. I’d be able to support a wife and family in comfort.”
“In which case, why are you renting a room with Mrs Bell?”
“That was for haste and convenience, not necessity. I needed to investigate the arsonist, especially after he threatened to burn down the bookshop. Mrs Bell answered my immediate needs, and her location is fortuitous as I can see the bookshop outside my bedroom window. This had the added benefit of disguising my true wealth from all in the town. I trust you to keep this knowledge between ourselves for the immediate future, as this may colour people’s perceptions of me, and fuel gossip.”
Lord Ferndale touched the side of his nose and said, “Understood.”
At midday on Christmas Eve, Louise, Bernadette and Mrs Poole closed the bookshop and were ready with their travel bags. Lord Ferndale’s coachman greeted them with the best wishes of the season and they travelled in comfort to Ferndale Hall. Louise thought of their sister, Marie, in an even colder climate and hoped fervently that she was coping with the Earl of Demanding as best she could. At least Marie had seemed otherwise well and in good spirits in her letter, and Louise hoped there would be another letter from her soon. How she ached to tell her sister about Mr Jackson.
They passed a bucolic meadow with cows clumped together under a copse of spruce trees and she giggled to herself about Mr Stratforth’s rather stolid offer that he was ready for a wife. Louise could not imagine herself as a farmer’s wife, not at all. Although perhaps if Mr Jackson were indeed to take up farming…
It sleeted all the way to Ferndale Hall and the roads were bumpy and wet, but it was a short journey and the hot stones in the footwell still had a little heat in them by the time they arrived.
Mr Thorne the butler greeted the three of them with a welcoming smile and directed them to the receiving room. “Mrs Sykes just took in tea,” he said.
“How lovely,” Louise said in anticipation. The moment she realised who else was in the room, a shocked “Oh!” fell out of her mouth.
For there, sitting beside Miss Yates and Lord Ferndale, was no other than Shaun Jackson.
“You’ve arrived!” Miss Yates said, as the gentlemen both rose from their seats to greet them.
Lord Ferndale said, “Welcome all. I trust you weren’t too chilled in the carriage?”
Suddenly lost for words at seeing Shaun here, Louise kept her mouth shut. Mrs Poole stepped into the lull in conversation and said, “You’re too generous. It was warm and comfortable. Thank you.”
Mr Thorne came in and pulled out chairs for the new arrivals as Mrs Sykes poured more tea.
“You know Mr Jackson, of course,” Lord Ferndale said, “I couldn’t leave him by himself at Christmas, what with Mrs Bell gone to her sister in St Albans, and you’re already acquainted so I thought we’d make a happy company.”
Louise recognised a glint in Lord Ferndale’s eye and wondered whether or not their self-appointed grandfather had given Mrs Bell some extra encouragement to visit her sister, in order to engineer this situation. She was well aware of how cleverly he’d arranged Estelle and Felix’s romance. Not that she was complaining at all.
“Of course, Mr Jackson, it’s delightful to see you,” Louise said. “If I’d known you’d be here, I’d have brought more books.”
“My library will have to suffice,” Lord Ferndale said.
“Your library is a wonder, my lord, but I’m not too sure if you have many of the adventure novels Mr Jackson prefers,” Louise remarked.
“Adventure novels, eh?” Lord Ferndale tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I’ve a few, I’m sure. Would you care to come with me to look, Mr Jackson?”
“I’d be delighted, my lord. After we’ve enjoyed this excellent tea Mrs Sykes has provided?”
Lord Ferndale laughed and said “Indeed, sir. I’m sure a gentleman of your stature requires regular fuel. Would you pass the fruit cake, Miss Louise?”
Despite the only actual member of her family present being Bernadette, Louise thoroughly enjoyed Christmas. She spared a few thoughts for poor Marie, trapped in chilly Cumbria with the horrible Earl of Demanding for company, and several prayers for her father who-knew-where in France, but mostly she was too busy enjoying herself to think much about those absent. Especially Estelle, who would be having a wonderful time with Felix in Ireland.
Ferndale Hall was a delightful place to spend the holiday, full of good cheer and even better food. After a wonderful Christmas dinner of roasted goose with all the trimmings and more side dishes than even Mr Jackson had room enough in his stomach to sample, the party retired to the parlour and played a great many games, laughing all the while.
“Well,” Lord Ferndale said as the laughter subsided at the end of a raucous game of charades, “I should like to thank you all for making this one of the most entertaining Christmases Ferndale Hall has seen in many a year.”
“Hear, hear!” Miss Yates said happily, raising her glass of sherry.
“And I certainly hope you will all be here next Christmas with us too, when my grandson and his lovely wife will have returned, and hopefully dear Marie can join us, and your father too, my dears.” Lord Ferndale gave Louise and Bernadette a benevolent smile.
“To absent friends.” Shaun lifted his wine glass in a toast, and they all joined him, lifting their glasses and echoing the sentiment. “And though I do not know whether I will be here next Christmas, Lord Ferndale, I would like to repeat again my thanks for the invitation this year. I have enjoyed myself tremendously, though I really must point out one most egregious oversight in your arrangements.”
Lord Ferndale paused with his glass halfway to his lips, arrested. “An oversight?”
“Indeed,” Shaun said, a distinct twinkle in his eye as he glanced at Louise. “I have looked all about, and I cannot locate a single sprig of mistletoe within Ferndale Hall.”
There was an instant of shocked silence. Louise gasped, and then absolutely everyone else burst out laughing.
Is he… did he just imply that he… would like to kiss me under the mistletoe?
She could not quite believe it. Her face must be as scarlet as the holly berries.
“Well, I do apologise for the oversight, Mr Jackson,” Lord Ferndale said, chuckling richly. “I shall ensure that my staff make up for it next Christmas, if you would care to join us again - I shall extend the invitation now!”
“I very much hope I will be able to take you up on your generosity, Lord Ferndale,” Shaun said warmly, his eyes still on Louise.
Miss Yates made a funny little sound, and Louise glanced over, just in time to see the sherry glass topple from Miss Yates’ hand and shatter on the floor, before the lady herself slumped against Bernadette’s shoulder.
Everyone froze except Bernadette, who sprang into action with astonishing speed. Bernadette pulled Miss Yates’ chair back, with the lady still on it, to create more room, before delivering a decisive rub onto Miss Yates’ sternum.
The lady coughed and spluttered, her eyes springing open, then began apologising.
Louise sighed with relief.
“You passed out,” Bernadette said. “Were you holding your breath?”
Miss Yates’ hand fluttered about her chest and shook her head.
“There, there,” Mrs Poole said. “Everything is all right.”
“I was trying not to cough,” Miss Yates said, then laughed at herself. “A little sherry went down the wrong way and… oh I’ve broken my favourite glass. That will teach me.”
“You have a cough?” Bernadette’s face filled with concern.
Mis Yates permitted herself a little throat clearing into her handkerchief. “Not at all, goodness I’ve made a hash of things. I was trying not to spoil the moment by coughing, so I held my breath and now I’ve ruined things.”
Louise’s heart tore a little at her dear friend’s confession. “You haven’t ruined anything, but we want to make sure you’re well.”
A few more slow breaths and Miss Yates asked, “My chest is sore, did I fall and hurt myself?”
“That was I,” Bernadette confessed. “I learned it from the midwives, they give babes a little rub in the middle of the chest to rouse them if they’re not immediately crying.”
Miss Yates laughed and said, “I can see why that would make a babe cry!”
Relief flooded Louise as they relocated to the seats by the window while the maids cleaned the broken glass and spilled sherry.
Louise, Bernadette and Mrs Poole did not let Miss Yates out of their sight that evening and the next day. Miss Yates made soft noises of complaint about the attention, and by Boxing Day the novelty of being the centre of concern had completely worn off.
“You must go home on schedule. I am absolutely fine, you simply must stop fussing.”
“Are you absolutely sure?” Louise asked, one more time. “We can send Bernadette home for more tonics. Whatever you need.”
Miss Yates curled her hands into fists and pushed them into her hips, staring up at Louise as if she were a giant annoyance. “I am fit as a fiddle! Merry Christmas!”
Louise laughed, and then bent to fondly give the little old lady a kiss on the cheek. She’d become so fond of Miss Yates, quite as fond of as any of the family she was related to by blood, and fonder than several, considering Joshua and Benjamin. “Merry Christmas to you too, Miss Yates.”